


A Beige Lipstick Stain

by AnthemsReturn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, the pov is a literal cup, ull see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22264492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnthemsReturn/pseuds/AnthemsReturn
Summary: Everything has a purpose, so what happens when one can no longer serve it? What happens when one takes another's purpose away? One careless action can drastically reduce another's sense of self, and all meaning found within.





	A Beige Lipstick Stain

The cup remembered how it got that stain. 

Dishes clinked as one of the coffee shop employees washed them for the morning rush, the cup itself placed upon a drying rack and ready for use. Beings entered, ordered food and drinks, sat down at the tables closest to the window to take advantage of the natural light, and shrugged off their fall coats as they began to warm up. All the cup had realized was the beings were more likely to order cups to fill the type of ceramic mug it was if the beings wore layers. The cup liked being useful, and it was aware of its purpose. Every morning when the coffee shop opened it was cleaned and dried before being stacked along with the other cups until a customer ordered a drink. That day, the barista greeted a recently regular customer, known as an "Alec," who the cup had never served before. The being ordered a liquid and the cup's purpose was renewed. 

"Janine," the barista, attempted to converse with Alec, but Alec did not appear to be in the mood for talking, and Janine moved away from its table with a comforting smile after setting a small tray with packets of sweeteners alongside the cup on the being's table. Alec had chosen a seat right up against the window in the back so the light from the midday sun gleamed off its ruddy brown hair and cast upon its thin, wire-rimmed glasses. The being, Alec, mostly ignored the cup, setting a heavy backpack against its cushioned chair and pulling out a business laptop before yanking off its windbreaker, revealing a washed-out long-sleeved tee-shirt and heavy denim jeans. It sat, its long legs stretched out underneath the table, and Alec cracked its knuckles before moving to press the button and powering the laptop on. 

For several minutes the being clicked away on the keys, the noise obscenely loud in the quiet of the mostly empty coffee shop. It appeared to be in a rush, long, bony fingers jamming the keys with vicious intent without Alec having to so much as glance at its hands. This continued for several minutes while the liquid inside the cup grew cold until Alec jumped at a loud tone beginning to play through its phone. The being paled and fished the object out of its bag, and after seeing the contact, swiped to ignore the call with urgency before setting its phone face down on the table. Alec appeared shaken, taking a deep calming breath and squeezing its eyelids together before seeming to calm slightly and resumed its typing. The cup thought nothing of the events thus far until it felt the table vibrate insistently with the onset of several repeated notifications. Alec tried to ignore them for a time before reaching for the phone, hurriedly tapping the screen, and suddenly Alec became deeply afraid. The cup couldn't fathom why. 

Alec suddenly lurched up to a standing position and tried to pack up quickly, stuffing notebooks full of symbols the cup deemed meaningless into its bag, but then the being looked up in shock. An older being had strode in and marched right up to Alec, sitting down in the seat adjacent to the being with a smile the cup considered not to be polite, as far as it had observed from other beings 'till then. 

"Sit down, child." The older being commanded, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in its navy blue skirt, the color contrasting with the wine pigment on its long, sharp nails. 

Alec's lower lip trembled as it snapped its jaws shut before it unfroze and slowly sat down. The cup perceived the interaction thus far to be rather odd but had never been able to reflect on such sentiments. 

The older being smiled, lips widening to show off-white teeth in a way the cup thought to be menacing. "Good. Now, do you know why I'm here, Alexander?" 

Alec, or perhaps also "Alexander," frowned, and its voice shook. "Don't call me that; I go by Alec now. And why're you here? I don't want to be part of your family anymore," it insisted. 

_ Oh _ , thought the cup,  _ not "Alexander" after all.  _

The older being pursed its lips as it wrinkled its nose. "I didn't give you the right to shorten your name, now did I?" It asked with a lilting voice that reminded the cup of a drop of honey into a pitcher of black coffee. 

The older being leaned forward, ginger-colored hair falling from behind its ears as its eyes bore into Alec's. "And I don't give a shit what you want, sweetie, because I decide what actually happens and what doesn't." Its grin widened as it whispered conspiratorially. "Just like I decided after your precious parents died I'd be the one who owns you." The being's voice lilted as if in song in that sentence, the cup noted. 

Alec sat back, putting distance between itself and the other being. Its voice warbled on its next words. "She was your sister. I can't believe you'd talk about Mom that way--" 

"I am your mother, brat." Despite the harshness of its tone the being's grin never wavered. 

"... You aren't my real mother, Candice." 

The "Candice" being smiled and leaned forward, its elbows on the table. Alec, meanwhile, shrank back and its Adam's apple bobbed in its throat.  _ Peculiar _ , thought the cup. It hadn't known these beings could swallow without sipping from a cup first. 

Candice spoke after a moment of successfully intimidating Alec. "I may not be your birth mother, but I'm still the one in charge, here." With that, it took the cup and sipped deeply from it, Candice's beige lipstick leaving a print on the cup's rim. Candice then stood, still holding the cup, and leaned in, speaking in hushed tones so only Alec and the cup could overhear. "I wouldn't forget that if I were you,  _ nephew. _ " The last word was sneered, and then Candice casually opened its hand, the cup falling from between its fingers. The liquid splashed against the floor as it tilted a moment before the cup shattered into fifty-two pieces. It knew because it could perceive in fifty-two different locations now. But since then it could no longer serve its purpose. 

Heads turned at the sound of ceramic shattering, and the few patrons in the shop began to mumble amongst themselves. The barista rushed over as Candice sauntered away and out the door, leaving Alec to assure the woman it was an accident and Alec would cover the cost of the cup. But those words it uttered to the barista echoed in the cup's consciousness.  _ The cost of the cup _ , the cup thought in fifty-two places at once.  _ But I'm still here. _

Not for long, as Janine got out a pan and broom and cleared away the broken shards of ceramic, sighing at the loss but assuring Alec there was no harm done. The cup didn't understand why no one made more of a fuss at its destruction but came to the decision that it must not be a big deal for a being such as itself to shatter. After all, if it can no longer serve its purpose why should anyone be bothered to mourn its loss? However, Janine only scooped up fifty-one pieces; the last found itself under the plush chair Alec still sat in. For a while it was very odd for the cup, to think the same thought so many times simultaneously instead of just once. The other pieces had been disposed of temporarily in the trash can behind the counter, a place the cup was interested to be in because it had never been, and now the cup perceived in more than one location and had thoughts about each location in each location at once.  _ How odd.  _

The fifty-one pieces in the trash ended up being ground to dust at the dump after spending a mere few days still inside the shop. For those few days, the cup didn't know what to make of itself and decided it no longer had much of a "self" to do with. Afterward, the cup felt its ability to perceive was greatly condensed. It went from being large and in one place to large and in many places to small and in one place. Altogether, it wasn't that much different for the cup, except it was no longer filled with liquid and it was no longer cleaned. Truthfully, it was no longer a cup. It could no longer serve its purpose. 

The shard now bore a beige lipstick stain. 


End file.
